Same Time Next Year
by Ann Brill White
Summary: How Frank Parker saved Christmas


**Same Time Next Year **  


By Ann Brill White   


Never-Never Land, 24 December 2000, 2000Z.   


"Nice of you to join us, Frank," Bradley Talmadge said as Frank Parker walked into the conference room. Olga, Ramsey, Donovan, and Isaac were already there and waiting. 

"What's going on? Are we backstepping?" Frank asked. 

"We're waiting for the call now," Olga chimed in, a guilty smile on her face. Frank knew that she was glad to see him, even though she hid it. He had a special Christmas present lined up for her, but this backstep would probably blow the surprise. 

"Wait a minute!" Ramsey chimed in. "Where's Owlsley? He should've been here by now." 

"I think he's still waiting for UPS to deliver his Christmas presents," Donovan guessed. 

Ramsey threw up his hands in disgust. "He should've used FedEx. I knew it was a mistake to bring that kid on board. Leave it to Ballard to screw up something this important!" 

"Now, Nathan," Isaac chided their security chief. "This is his first time. You can't blame Mr. Owlsley for being a little apprehensive. After all, this is an awesome responsibility we have here. We're responsible..." 

Fortunately, Isaac was interrupted by Hooter Owlsley's timely arrival. The youthful computer specialist was carrying his Palm Pilot and studying it intensely. "I still don't see how this is possible," he said to no one in particular. 

"Trust us," Talmadge told him. "We've been doing this ever since the start of the Backstep program." 

"I don't see why we have to go through this again," Nate grumbled. "The big guy should plan his time better." 

"He says this every year," Donovan smirked to Frank. 

"Come on, Mr. Ramsey," Olga jumped in, "this is a matter of international security. How about a little '_peace on Earth and goodwill toward men_'?" 

"This is all Parker's doing!" Ramsey continued. 

"Oh, shut up!" Frank sniped back. He wasn't in the mood to hear any more from Ramsey. "You know that we do this every year." 

"Nate, that's enough," Isaac said more forcefully. When the old man spoke, everyone listened. Frank sat down next to Ramsey and pulled a small piece of mistletoe out of his breast pocket. He held it over Ramsey's head and made kissy-noises. 

"What do you care? You're Jewish! And you," Ramsey glared at Olga. "You damn Commies don't even celebrate!" 

"Yes, we do," Olga informed him smugly. "The Orthodox calendar just happens to be a week behind yours, so we have more time to prepare." 

The red telephone at Talmadge's seat rang. He picked it up on the first ring. "Yes? Put him through.... Yes, sir.... I understand, sir... Right away." Bradley hung up from the one-sided conversation, then turned to face his team. "That was him. Backstep is a go." 

"I knew it!" Frank exclaimed as he high-fived Donovan. "I knew that it would happen again this time!" 

"If you'll all pardon me, what are you talking about?" Owlsley asked, his eyes behind his coke-bottle glasses flitting from one of the team to the other. 

"We're backstepping, kid," Frank informed him casually as he stood up. 

"Well, duh," Hooter shot back. "Why? There's no dire emergency going on in the world that warrants it. In fact, it's pretty quiet out there." 

The others looked oddly at their newest member. "Uh, didn't you tell him when he was brought on board, Bradley?" Donovan asked their boss. 

Talmadge looked sheepish. "The whole clearance process was pushed through at lightning speed as compared to normal, because of Ballard's sudden departure," he explained. "Everyone take your places. Mr. Owlsely, if you'll stay behind a moment, I'll let you in on our little secret." 

The others took their cue. They rapidly headed out to their accustomed jobs. Olga and Isaac went through the pre-flight routine for the Sphere, while Donovan helped Frank suit up. 

"So, are you gonna ask him this year?" Donovan asked as he handed Frank his cellphone. 

"Yeah, I have to admit that I'm stumped. Besides, I didn't have time," Frank confessed. 

"I thought so. Usually you're practically busting to tell me. You didn't say anything this year." 

"Well, we have been kind of busy," Frank reminded his friend. 

"All I can say is, good luck," Donovan agreed as the two of them walked across the hangar to the Sphere. Frank shook Donovan's hand, then got into the Sphere like he'd done hundreds of times before. He knew, however, that this time was more critical than most. 

He went through the pre-flight checks as he heard Olga's calm, professional voice announcing that the reactor was up to ninety percent, then at one hundred. On her signal, Frank pushed the button to engage the backstep. The sphere began to shake violently, then Frank felt himself be launched into the air at close to the speed of light. The brain-rattling went on for what seemed like forever as the days counted backwards - Sunday, Saturday, Friday, Thursday, Wednesday, Tuesday, and finally to Monday. The sphere landed with a jolt that caused Frank's jaws to snap. The backstep was done. It was time to save the world again. 

Frank immediately felt the cold seeping through the shell of the sphere. He'd made sure to pack cold-weather gear in his pack before the backstep. He grabbed the pack as he blew the hatch on the Sphere and tumbled out into a snowbank. He was in the middle of a snowy wasteland. "Damn, it's cold!" he yelled to no one in particular. He pulled the parka, gloves, and hat out of the pack and put them on, then pulled out his cellular phone. He fumbled with the buttons, then gave up and took one glove off. He hit the autodialer to call NNL. "Conundrum," he said when Talmadge picked up the other end. 

"I take it there's been a backstep," Talmadge observed. "What happened, Frank?" 

"Same as usual," Frank answered. 

"I thought so. Hang on," Bradley said. Frank could hear him making a call on another phone. After about thirty seconds, Bradley returned. "Okay, Frank. I've made the call, and your contact will be meeting you shortly. We have a recovery team en route from Elmendorf Air Base. They'll be there in an hour." 

Frank spotted a red light in the sky steadily approaching the Sphere. "Roger, Bradley. Contact has been spotted. See you soon." Frank hung up the phone, then put his glove back on. He danced around, trying to keep warm as the red light got even closer. "Hurry it up, will ya!" he grumbled. "Some of us aren't used to the cold!" The red light got closer, and turned into a red light in front of a brown blob. Slowly, Frank could make out individual shapes instead of a blob. Frank waved to the contact, and he saw a flash of red as the contact hailed him back. 

The red light gradually lowered to the ground, and the contact's vehicle came to a stop right in front of the Sphere. "I take it that we needed to backstep again this year?" Santa Claus asked with a sigh as he jumped out of the sleigh. 

Frank ignored the insistent nuzzling of the lead reindeer with the red nose and shook Santa's hand. "That's right, Santa. Saddam Hussein bought up all of the Playstation 2 systems, and we had to backstep to make sure that there were enough of them to satisfy some of the kids that wanted one." 

"What will they think of next?" Santa shook his head. "I mean, it wasn't so bad when it was just Cabbage Patch Kids. Then it was Tickle Me Elmo, then Furbies." 

"I wouldn't know about them. NSA didn't let us bring them into NNL," Frank said. 

"Last year it was that Pokemon stuff. The elves were so sick of seeing Pikachu that they lined the reindeer stables with the leftover cards. Now this year it's those scooters and the Playstation," the jolly old elf shrugged. "I'm just glad that I agreed to share the Backstep technology with the Backstep development team. I don't know what I'd do without you, Frank." 

"Well, Santa," Frank grinned, "there is one thing that you can do to thank me." 

"What's that?" Santa looked skeptically at the chrononaut. 

"Olga Vukavitch. What does she want for Christmas?" 

Santa gave Frank a wry look. "Someone who works for the NSA should know that I can't divulge classified information." 

"Aw, c'mon, Santa! I mean, this is the third year that I've pulled your jolly old butt out of the fire. You owe me that much!" 

Santa looked sternly at Frank. "Someone's gonna get a lump of coal in his stocking this year," he warned. "However," Claus smiled as he pulled out a Palm Pilot and punched a few buttons, "I can tell you to look in a jewelry store. Specifically the diamond section." 

Frank grinned and punched Santa gently on the shoulder. "Thanks, big guy." 

"And what about you, Frankie? What do you want for Christmas?" 

Frank thought for a moment. "Okay, how about getting the Redskins into the playoffs?" 

"Ho, ho, ho!" Santa chuckled. "Sorry, Frank. Miracles aren't my department. You'll have to appeal to a higher authority for that one," he said as he looked skyward. 

"Can't blame a guy for trying," he shrugged. 

"Well, I'd better get going before your ride shows up," Santa said. "Thanks again, Frank. And remember, nothing less than a carat will do ," he nodded, referring to Olga's gift. 

"Got it," Frank answered as the old man hopped back into the sleigh. 

Santa took up the reins and slapped the reindeer with them. "Let's go, team! We've got a lot of work to do this week! And Frank, same time next year?" 

"I'll be looking forward to it," Frank waved. As the sleigh faded from sight, he went back into the Sphere to await the recovery team, and to keep warm thinking about Olga's face as she opened her present. He smiled to himself. Saving the world was pretty exciting, but nothing gave the chrononaut, and former orphan, more satisfaction than saving Christmas. 

  



End file.
